Storms End In Burning Flames
by JINKIsscoobydoo
Summary: What if Jon Snow's destiny wasn't to pledge his life to the black but to the girl on top of Storm's End? How would the story change if Astor Baratheon, daughter of Stannis Baratheon, Lord of Dragonstone, came down the hill at full speed to crash into Jon's life? Season 1 love story. JonxOFC, RobbxOFC RamseyxOFC AH AU Looking for a second BETA to help with consistency and story.
1. Like A Ghost

**Jon's POV**

The room was dark. No candles were lit, I could not see my hands before my face, darker than the nights of winter. I had to get use to the black. I would be surrounded by it, from my clothes, to the sky-the sky blacker than nights at winterfell, blacker than my own hair. I would be nearly invisible at castle black. Something I might learn to love. Not to be seen as a bastard from house Stark by Lady Caitlyn, just Jon Snow, on the wall to protect my family.

My hand reaches out to the stone walls next to my head. I expected the cold to bite my finger tips, almost like touching ice. I'll be surrounded by snow, behind a giant-built ice wall they say. This, the cold, I would also have to get use to.

 _The day had been an eventful one, one to think about in the dark. A deserter from castle black had wandered into_ winterfell _lands. Ned Stark, my_ father _and lord of the house, was sent to deal with the man. A man that would have been my brother on the wall had he stayed at his post. It wasn't what I'd been thinking about though as the blade passed through bone and flesh of his neck. I was thinking about Bran. How after this he would be a man, the same way Robb and I had to become one. To see what it is to be a Lord. How it is to not always make your own choices, but to be bound by law to carry out your duties. It had only been minutes before that that we had been jesting him about his bow arm, or lack thereof, Robb and I._

 _'Don't look away, father will know if you do.' I told my younger brother of only ten years old. At such an age he shouldn't see a man's head fall from his shoulders, but we were all ten once. He hadn't asked how I knew how_ father _would know if he didn't look and I had no interest in telling him. I knew because I had looked away my first time. A thief had taken from the Stark kitchen to feed his family, all he wanted was to stop seeing his children going hungry, and he met the blade for it. I didn't understand then, with my older brother Robb who stood firm and focused on the soon to be_ dead _man, but my father was a true lord. Everyone has a role to play to uphold the law, whether or not the man deserves death for his crime was not for a bastard like me to decide. And even as a legitimate son of Eddard Stark, it wasn't for my brother, a young boy of ten, to decide either, but he must understand it as we all come to do._

 _The dead elk was lying on the ground, mutilated with its intestines out. The beginning_ to _a mystery solved meters away when a nest of_ direwolves were _found next to their dead mother. Direwolves, a sight they were. An animal, the signal of house Stark, thought to be extinct for thousands of years like the white walkers the deserter had blamed for breaking his oath to the Night's Watch. If_ direwolves _could still be here after they were thought to be gone, couldn't the white walkers do the same?_

 _When father had insisted a quick death for them the look of sadness on Bran's face, a boy seconds ago witnessing a man's head fall from his shoulders, whined like the child that he still was for them. Robb and I knew without even a glance that the right thing to do was to keep them alive. If nothing else they were the sigils of the Stark house, their house. They belonged to them. And I couldn't bare the sight of Brans pain from losing them when he's already grown so attached much like children do. One last shred of innocence for him wouldn't hurt. After today, he won't get very many glimpses of it ever again. It will slip through his fingers and none of us ever even knew it. Until it was too late._

 _"Lord Stark, there are five pups, one for each of the stark children." I had said on my feet. It must be a sign from the Gods for the Stark children to have them. Surely even father wouldn't deny it._

 _When Bran had asked about my_ direwolf _and why I didn't have one it didn't occur to me to lie to him. I had said the truth, the words their own mother had said to them and_ I _many times, "I'm not a Stark."_

 _But as we began to leave the dead mother behind by the river the faintest sound of a whining pup was heard and by the Gods there was another one. As white as my name and small, sure to die the quickest. When Theon had suggested he_ be _mine, as if I even deserved something that belongs to a trueborn Stark I was sure everyone would object. The Gods had meant for these to belong to the legitimate sons and daughters of house Stark, not a bastard like me. But no one objected. So I named him Ghost. If he hadn't whined he surely would have become one._

 _When we had returned to Winterfell a raven had come to tell about arrivals. Father told me in three days we were to ride out and meet them. There hasn't been much else he'd said. They had all rushed to the great hall to discuss matters. All we knew was that it was important. Robb and I were to be at the bottom of the hill tomorrow. Rarely are we escorts to guests. They always had their own and the least we do is greet them at the gate._ Usually _I am not part of the greetings as Lady Caitlyn doesn't always allow it._

 _"Who do you think it is?" Robb asked as we practiced our swords in the training yard._

 _He'd distracted me enough, taking aim_ for _my side before I managed to catch his blade with my own. Dull blades were still blades, I would have been sure to get a bruise to cover half my ribs if he'd succeeded. His impressed smile wasn't enough to distract me this time._

 _"Must be someone important if they're making us shave to meet them."_

 _"We only cut our beards for the King." His eyes widened and his face sat frozen in a goofy grin. He was distracted._

 _It was my chance to win this spare for once, and I took it. My blade swung with half the strength I would put into a real fight as not to hurt my brother as I let it fall to meet his left leg._ Wind _left him as he fell to the ground and a laugh followed after. I was almost panicked before he'd done that, I thought I'd hurt him. I would have felt guilty for weeks. And knowing my brother he was sure to hold it over my head._

 _"You fight dirty Jon. I thought you were a man of honor." My brother laughs as he pushes back his red curls._

 _"I have more honor in the tip of my blade than you do in your whole body, brother." I reply._

 _With_ that _I hold out my hand for Robb to take. He smiles gladly and takes it._

 _It was always nice, spending time with my brother. I loved all of my siblings, but Robb and I were the closest in age and he treated me as an equal, not a bastard. Something I never thanked him for. I would be sure to before I left to pledge my life to the black._

 _"It must be King Baratheon. But we ride out to meet guests tomorrow. We don't shave for two more days. That mustn't be who were escorting. "_

 _He was right, if it were, I wouldn't be going. I was only a bastard. It would be an embarrassment to father to meet the King with his bastard at his side._

 _"No sense guessing on it. We'll find out soon enough." I say as we walked back into the castle and readied for bed._

My fingers fell from the stone wall onto my chest. I always found it hard to sleep when it came time to. My mind didn't have a bedtime, it was fine with keeping me up all night to make me useless in the morning. I was exhausted. Every limp hurt and every breath wheezed from my throat but my eyes wouldn't close.

Who would we meet tomorrow? And why was it a secret? Did they forget to sign the note? Whatever the reason, it brought unnecessary worry for me. I don't know how Robb feels about it, sure to be as confident as ever, but I didn't like marching outside the gates to meet people I didn't know. I wasn't afraid, mostly just curious, but I had this feeling, like something was going to happen. Something big that I wouldn't know even if I saw it. Something waiting in that field and I didn't know whether to welcome it or to fear it.


	2. Piercing Blue

_Thank you to all those who have read, followed, favorited and reviewed! I was so happy to get people's feedback and if they thought the first chapter was good. I'd love to know more of what you guys think, if you like the POV if I have Jon in character (this one I really need enlightenment on) and if she like the characters and events that go on. I always appreciate hearing you guys and it really keeps me wanting to continue with it when I know what you guys are thinking._

 _So lastly I just wanted to put out there that I would love it so so much if someone could help with beta-ing my story. My friend Ads helps but GoT is such a massive universe that honestly as many minds as possible will go a long way as far as continuity, character development and staying true to those characters as well. So having someone to comb over the chapters pre-post and bouncing ideas off of would be magnificent! So if you think that's you then please message me and we can go from there. But okay I'll stop talking. Please review and most of all, enjoy!_

. . . . . . . . . .

Father had insisted that we look nice. I even had to bathe before hand. Not that it's a bad thing but it told me that this person was important.

"Ah Jon, you smell good for once." Arya, my little sister, sharpest tongue I knew, said as I passed her in the courtyard.

"As sweet as ever, sister." I smiled at her as I pat her head to which she pushes my hand away with a scowl.

She wasn't much of a girl, content with her bows and arrows, swords and horseplay. She could easily pass as a boy if Lady Stark didn't force her to keep her hair long.

"Going to meet our mysterious guest?"

I nod.

"Why can't I come? I want to see who it is." She whines.

She always seems so much older when she's shooting an arrow but so young when she laughs and talks. It was almost like Bran, but the opposite. Bran was a boy until he spoke. He was always aware of his surroundings, of what was going on when he shouldn't be. So willing to grow up but also so young.

"It could be dangerous." I exaggerate my voice as I then lunge to tickle her.

Her girlish laugh was a giveaway of her age. It made me happy to see her so young when I knew she could beat any man here with just her wits alone.

"Stop Jon!" She screams as her voice covers in laughter.

After a moment I decide it's about time to head out. With her bottom lip set out of place and her eyes wide she tries one last time to plead her way into coming.

"You know it's not up to me." I say.

Her head fell for a small second before it was set right and a scowl was on her young face. She looked older than her age as if an adult was trapped inside someone so small.

"Fine. I didn't want to go anyway. One day I'll be slaying dragons! Escorting is no fun compared to that!"

I snort at her determination to defeat dragons. Who knows, she maybe right. Though they are extinct it seems this is the time for all those once gone to find their place back on earth among us.

"I believe you, little sister." One last pat of her head and I leave her behind. I'm sure she'll get over it.

"I wonder what house they're from. They're sure to have an army after them with such secrecy." Robb predicts as we ride ten minutes in.

I had been content to watch the brown empty hills of Winterfell land as we make our way on horseback down the King's road. Robb was always a talker. Never one to sit in silence for long. Yet another thing opposite in the Stark children, but of course I was not really a Stark.

"Are you sure father didn't tell you a name?"

Robb wasn't one to forget such a detail, but with the King coming as well it would be easy to lose track of a name.

"Yes, he didn't tell me." The pregnant pause after his words were telling enough before the words left his lips. "Or...maybe he did…." I watch my brother as his face twisted as his mind battled in a war greater than the rebellion. "No, he didn't. I'm sure I would remember that...I think"

I didn't stop myself from laughing. Even Robb could have his moments of uncertainty. Maybe it would humble him.

"How is it that the great Robb Stark, son of the Lord of the north Ed Stark, could forget something as simple as a name?" I teased my brother who's face was beginning to match his hair.

"He didn't tell me. I know it!" His eyes were wide and his head was faced forward. He must be embarrassed.

"Nothing wrong with being forgetful...old man."

The face of my brother was ripe with anger.

"I'm jesting, brother. I thought I was supposed to be the serious one." I chortle. "How do you propose we greet them? 'You who sent the Raven?'"

"...We'll think of something." He replies in a hushed tone.

"You're the one to be talking, Robb. You represent house Stark, not me."

His face had reached shades lighter than his hair. My brother, Lord Robb Stark, the tomato.

. . . . . . . . . .

We had finally made it to the destination spot. It almost felt as if we had left winterfell behind. I had forgotten how big Stark land really was.

It was quiet in the vast empty lands. At least half a day's ride before we see a village. Robb didn't talk, trying his best to remember the name before they showed, I'm sure.

"I remember now-"

Just as my brother had begun to speak we heard the gallop of horses coming close. We stood ready on our horses just in case it was unwanted company.

We saw the banners before we saw the people who followed them. There was no need to remember the name now, the sigil, a crowned stag on a yellow banner told us the house. With a heart atop a burning flame.

Surrounded by only four armed men was a girl I had never seen before. Her hair as red as the flame that proudly dimpled her house and eyes blue as ice. Her skin was whiter than snow and if I hadn't known of the stories of the white walkers I would think she was one. Her deep red dress hugged her small body tightly as the ends of it tossed back and forth in the wind around her white stallion. Her collarbone was even visible from this distance and her cheekbones as high as her eye sockets. She was beautiful and even that was not enough. There had never been a more striking woman such as her back in winterfell.

"By the Gods." I hear my brother mumble in awe as he too watched the woman coming closer to use with her bannerman and horses.

They were before us before we had time to close our mouths.

"Please welcome Lady Astor of house Baratheon. First daughter of Stannis Baratheon, Lord of Dragonstone."

A girl, with straight dark brown hair that fell loose down her back with dark eyes and tanned skin presented the flamed girl before us. Her dress was a deep brown that was more loose than the flamed women's. Her clothes were fine and she was sure to come from a noble house as well.

My brother and I looked like fools. We didn't greet her right off, we just stared like we were frozen in time. And in truth it felt just as much.

"Well, aren't you going to pay respects to Lady Astor? I thought you were mannered Lords. Is this how they treat ladies in winterfell? By Gods, They all must still be virgins. You men have no charm."

"Fresca, enough." The flamed girl finally spoke and her soft, yet authoritative, voice from such an appearance didn't help snap us out of our foolishness.

The Lady, Fresca, smiled endearingly at the flamed woman.

Rob was easier to compose himself. He had the most experience with women. I always looked like a right fool as I never could find my voice around them. It was best to leave this meeting up to Robb.

"Welcome to winterfell, Lady Astor."

My brother looked at me, I had been sure to avoid eye contact with Lady Astor for fear my cheeks must match her hair.

"I am Robb, of house Stark, First born of the Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell. This is my brother, Jon Snow."

Her handmaiden was quick to catch on of my status, bending at the waist to whisper to Lady Astor in surprise.

"He's the bastard son of Lord Eddard Stark."

Lady Astor was quick to calm her handmaiden with a simple pat to her shoulder.

"You must know the right words to speak, Fresca." She whispers to her handmaiden. "My apologies. She knows not what she speaks."

I was surprised she didn't comment herself. There was no change in her words once she had been made aware of me and there was no disdain in her face. My nerves had yet to fade but it was easier to look from the plain sheet of brown-green grass on the ground, to her.

"The trip was long, I wish to accompany you back to Winterfell, my Lords." Lady Astor speaks politely as any true highborn would.

However, her words bothered me. She said Lords when by the Gods my brother was the only one with that title. Robb must have noticed it too as he looked on at me from the side of his eye.

"Of course, My Lady." With that Robb turned his horse and I waited for the rest to follow before me. I was again surprised as Lady Astor did not attempt to move her horse forward. The lack of heavy horse footfalls behind him made my brother halt his travel and turn to speak with the Lady.

"Is something the matter, Lady Astor?"

"No. I'm sorry. I'm just…" Her eyes were locked onto me, I refused to look at her for I would surely become more of a fool, but I could feel them on me.

I was use to women looking at me. I wasn't blind to it, and I had been approached plenty. But they were never Ladies looking at me, regardless if it was just in mild curiosity

"Please, do go on, Jon Snow."

I would have missed her gesture if I hadn't looked up from the ground.

I looked to Robb before I did as she asked. His nod was swift as he turned with one last curious look at our new guests.

. . . . . . . . . .

Lady Fresca was a talker, like Robb. Actually, she hadn't been quiet since we began our journey back to the castle.

She talked a lot about home, how it was darker and more grim there and that she liked the way the air felt on her skin better here than at Dragonstone.

I knew more about her in the last hour than I knew about Lady Astor and every sentence Lady Fresca spoke I waited for Lady Astor to reply with something, anything to give some insight into how she felt.

At best she would laugh and for the most part that was enough for me. It told me much about her, how comfortable and caring for her handmaiden she must be. Especially to put up with the incessant talking. But when I was just at a good enough angle to look back at her without, I hope, being obvious, I could see her glowing eyes as she watched the scenery around her and managed to also give her handmaiden her full attention. She was perceptive, that much I knew, and even though I hoped it was not true, I believe she knew I watched her. She would catch me from time to time from the corner of her blue eyes and the smallest smile I might have even have just imagined graces her lips. I assumed it was just to laugh at the star struck bastard who couldn't keep his eyes on The King's Road.

Robb spoke with them as we rode. He asked them how long it had taken them from Dragonstone to our lands and how it must have been dangerous going so far for so long with very little men. Of course Lady Fresca was verbal about what she thought, saying she was her protection and that the bannerman were just for show. When Robb laughed at her I saw the look on the Lady's face and I was sure she was seconds away from jumping from her horse to strangle my brother. That had made me laugh for the first time since we were joined by our new company. And it was then that the tables had turned to show the eyes for Lady Astor now focused on me, which of course cut my laughter short. I managed to refrain from looking at her for she was sure to see my cheeks had changed color.

. . . . . . . . . .

We had lost more time than intended. The horse Lady Astor was riding was not cooperating and had stopped every few feet. She would look away to her horse and a small line between her brow would set as she watched the animal. I would take that time to look at her closer before I found my own horse kicking the dirt beneath him more interesting.

"Do you need to stop, Lady Astor?" Fresca suddenly asks as we all turn to wait for her to answer.

"No, I think it's just Leo. He's hungry."

"Leo?" Robb asks for the both of us.

"Her horse." Fresca says as her eyes focus on her Lady's.

Robb looks at me but I'm more focused on Lady Astor. I watch her unafraid as she gently brushes the white long hair on the steads head and leans in to whisper to it. I was fascinated as I had never seen anyone treat a horse like it was anything other than an animal.

I feel my brothers eyes like daggers on my back and pull at my cloak nervously. It must be too obvious that I was starring. I probably look perverse, watching her so closely.

"Would it be alright if we did stop?" She finally says as she straightens and addresses my brother and surprisingly me as well, as if my opinion mattered.

I look to my brother and let him make the decisions.

He hesitates as he looks on into the direction we are headed. He looks older and more thoughtful as he works out thoughts in his head.

"Of course." He nods and steadies his own horse before jumping down. We all follow suit and stand on our own feet as we walk the animals over to the trees on the side of the road.

I was content with leaning against the tree as I watch the white clouds change and shape above me. But as a rope passes my vision and Lady Astor replaces it in front of me I don't think my plans will be a lonely as I had anticipated.

"Do you mind if we share a tree?"

It should have been a quick response. Yes or no, it was simple. But, of course, I couldn't think as those piercing blue eyes watched me closely.

I didn't expect her to come over here, much less ask questions. My mind wasn't prepared. I hadn't thought out a proper response to give a Lady.

I had managed to move out of her way so she could tie her horse, which I assume was an answer, as she began to wrap the rope around the tree without a word. A simple nod and smile was all she gave as she focused then on her horse. I looked on at the horse, noticing its strong chest and long legs. It was a finely breed horse, that was clear. But the way she looked at the animal it was as if it too had found its spot in her heart.

"I raised him." She says in a soft, far away voice. "When he was brought to us, he was sick."

She had turned from her horse enough to look at me. I was unable to look at her and focused my eyes on many things-like the ridges in the tree or the kicked up dirt beneath it and the black reign connected to the saddle of the horse.

"I fed him, every day." a sad smile on her lips. "And when my father told me that he would die before the weeks end, I was determined to keep him alive. So I did. But he would have never survived if he was not strong himself. I could try to take that credit, but it would be a lie."

It brought the image of Ghost to my mind. He was still so young, only a pup, the smallest, a runt. But he was strong, I could see it. I could feel it as I watch him play and learn new tricks. He was a fighter.

"That's why I named him Leo. A lion, strong and fierce. Loyal until the end."

I tried to understand why she told me this. After not speaking from the time we met until now, what made her? Was she lonely? I looked around to find her handmaiden and spot her near Robb who looked slightly annoyed at this point as he catches me watching him and smiles in the only way to describe as just Robb. I was her only option. That must be it.

I focus back on the tree and the horse as I continue to listen.

She turns from her horse and her hands fall to the sides of her dress. Her eyes are solely on me and my heart was in no hurry to stop trying to beat from my chest.

"What did you name your horse?"

I looked from her to my horse and by the Gods I couldn't remember what this one's name was. There were many horses and most looked alike. Don't get me wrong, I liked the horses but none of them were truly mine. I knew them by their attributes, what made them great. But by name was not how.

I struggle to give an answer and soon I give up. I probably looked insensitive. Was owning a horse and caring for it like a pet something that makes women more interested in you? Not that she would be either way, or that it really mattered to know the ways to a women when I would never have one of my own once I pledged to the black. But even so useless knowledge was still knowledge.

"Sorry, I just assumed."

I heard a faint laugh from her as she turns and begins to feed her horse. I felt as if I should say something, anything. She had taken time out to come over to me, even if it was just for wavering companionship, and I had managed to say nothing at all to her. It was sure to seem disrespectful in her eyes.

"It's Buck...I believe." I say nervously.

She turns mid way to watch me and a smile forms on her full mouth.

"That's a good name."

"Lady Astor. How's Leo coming along?" Lady Fresca calls over from her spot next to my brother.

"He's fine. He should be ready to move in a moment." She calls back.

"Good. As soon as he's ready we'll be on our way. We're losing daylight." Robb says as he places his hands on his hips and then turns back to Lady Fresca.

I watched him as he confidently talks to her. How simple it looked. It was always moments like this that the jealousy of who Robb is and will always be comes to me beneath the love and admiration I felt for my brother. He was better, at everything. Could have everything and I would always struggle. If he were talking to Lady Astor right now he would have charmed her. I couldn't even try.

"Fresca likes him." I hear the Lady say as she stands closer to me and watches them from across the field.

I keep my feet bolted to the ground despite wanting to flee. She was too close, so close I could almost feel the sleeve of her dress touch my arm. My nerves felt as if they were on fire. The closest I've been to a women was my sisters, which didn't count. This was completely different and uncomfortable. But when I was ever around the opposite sex that was a feeling I came accustomed to, which is why I did my best to avoid it.

"Probably offending him as much as possible." She laughs and turns to me. "That's how I know."

I hadn't asked, but I suppose I didn't have to.

"Your brother seems nice."

I watched her as discreetly as I could. Whenever a woman would talk to me about Robb it always ended in the same way. They wanted to get to me to get to Robb. At first it had hurt and after a while it became expected. Of course not every woman was like this. The whores and the town's girls mostly tried talking to me out of interest, but I never stopped waiting for them to bring up my brother. That is if I stayed long enough to let them get that far. Rarely did I speak to women. When I would my brother was always there and they were never interested in me enough to care. But the ones that would as I passed always started the conversation just the same. I bite down on my teeth as I wait for her to ask the inevitable question.

"They look good together."

Or, maybe I was wrong. That tends to happen more than I would like to admit.

"Alright," she says as she turns back to her horse, unties him and leads him to the road without another word.

I suppose we were off then.

. . . . . . . . . .

We traveled for half a day before we made it to the nearest town with a suitable inn for Lady Astor. Well, according to her handmaiden. Lady Astor seemed content with whatever Robb and I decided was best.

Robb had insisted I room with him. Sure to discuss our guests in greater detail behind the anonymity of a stone wall.

Lady Astor's handmaiden would have been easy to mistaken for the Lady of house Baratheon. She was confident, much like Robb, and boisterous. She didn't care to compose herself like most handmaidens did and she didn't bow down and take orders as Lady Astor had yet to give her any. They seemed to communicate on some other level, no words were needed. It reminded me of Robb and I at times when a certain way he would move his head told me all I needed to know about what went on inside of it or the way he would swing his sword.

If I didn't know any better I would think the two were sisters. Their bond was strong, anyone would notice.

"She's beautiful, isn't she? It's hard to imagine she came from the loins of Stannis Baratheon." Robb said, bringing me to the present.

I didn't have to voice it, by the look on Robb's face he knew that I agreed. Any seeing man not blind, would.

"Her handmaiden was beautiful as well."

"You think all women are beautiful."

"Not all women." He smirks.

"Stone doesn't always keep voices from carrying, brother. You might want to be cautious." I warn as I hear the faintest of voices behind the walls. And with Robb's mouth they were sure to hear him.

"So? What are they going to do if I call them beautiful? Call me handsome? They'd be right, you know." He boasts.

"Just get some sleep, Robb." I moan into my pillow that felt like bricks beneath my head.

"You're right. We have a long day tomorrow. We should be back home before evening." With that I heard him fall onto the hard bed, regretting doing so the second his back connected to it and sighing until he went silent.

It was finally quiet enough to sleep. But of course my mind did not agree. The thoughts of the day crescendoed and wouldn't leave me peace.

I thought of her, Lady Astor. How her hair curled at the bottom and her blood red dress blew against the wind as we rode. Her eyes would pierce a man like a spear if she let them. I remembered feeling them on my back not being as uncomfortable with the thought of her watching me as time went on. She wasn't like the other girls who would stare. She wasn't watching me as a bastard or as an attractive man who happened to be the bastard of Lord Eddard Star with no titles or future, or a stepping stone to the next Lord of the North. She felt as if she were trying to figure me out. Trying to speak to me somehow. I felt crazy for romanticizing glances from a Lady. I had no right. I tried to stop those thoughts. No good could come of them. It must be infatuation. She was unlike any woman I'd ever seen. She didn't talk, and when she did it left more to think about.

I wonder if Robb feels the same. I would understand from him, his thoughts wouldn't be wrong. He's a Lord. If she was interested in anyone it was sure to be Robb. He carried the name, the title and was the heir to Winterfell.

I sigh as spears filled my throat again. I needed air.

I left the room, unconcerned with being too loud. Robb could sleep through wars. When you're as carefree as him it must be easy to sleep so sound.

My feet carried me to the front of the boarding house. I felt the wind whip through my hair and furs and it kissed my face red. I kept my eyes on every corner. You can't be too careful, no place was really safe.

I heard the wooden door creak and I cup my sheathed sword as I turn to see who's joined me.

My throat is dry when I see her, fire red hair and piercing eyes.

"Lady Astor." I greet her politely as my head bows and my eyes search for anything but her.

"Hello, Jon Snow." Her voice was soft, like silk. Too warm for this weather.

I didn't know if she expected me to begin a conversation. Would it be rude if I didn't? Surely it would. But what could I say when my throat has closed up on me and I feel like I'm being choked by a snake around my neck.

"Tell me Jon Snow, what do you like to be called?"

It was a simple question with an even more simple answer.

"Jon Snow."

Lady Astor was quiet.

"Is that what you wish to be called, or is it what you're used to being called?"

This wasn't as simple of a question and the answer wasn't as simple to come to.

She had asked an unexpected question. A question that I had always wanted to be asked but never been granted. It was a question that left me vulnerable and I didn't know if that was what she had intended but nevertheless it was a powerful one.

"I'm sorry-"

"No, there's nothing to apologize for." I say without looking her way.

The dancing trees held my interest to distract me from her dancing flames.

"Can I call you Jon?" She asks.

"As you wish, Lady Astor."

"You're very formal, Jon. I never much liked the title of Lady Astor. Astor will do just fine."

I felt knives pierce the inside of my throat. It's considered disrespectful to not address a highborn with the honor of a title. But declining a highborns wishes are just as disrespectful. I was trapped like a caged animal. I chose the lesser of the two evils. I don't know how or why I was able to actually speak with her when just earlier every word had froze in my throat.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think our families will appreciate that, especially coming from a bastard."

Her silence was deafening. I nervously looked over my shoulder to her and her face was as stoic as my own.

"I don't much care for what my family thinks. I'm sorry that I assumed you felt the same."

With that, she turns and pushes her way through the heavy wooden door, gone.

My head fell into my hands and I sighed heavy. This was the very reason I didn't talk to women, I couldn't.


	3. With The Wind

I avoided Lady Astor that morning. She looked to do the same.

Robb would point out different bits of land as we rode. He told the history of how Winterfell came to be to Lady Fresca as she didn't grow up with the stories like Lady Astor.

Suddenly, the quiet voice of Lady Astor springs into the wistful conversation between my brother and Lady Fresca, almost so sudden as to make my horse buck from the unfamiliar voice.

"Would it be okay if we stopped? I'm feeling a bit unwell." She says from behind me on her horse. I immediately stopped and watched as she dismounted her steed.

"What's wrong?" Robb asked before I got the chance to, my voice curled in my throat like a dying plant in winter.

"I didn't sleep much, I'm afraid. My head has grown light." She stared at the ground, missing everyone's worried faces, my own included. She looks up, straight at me, and I see the green of her cheeks before I see the contents of our breakfast on the ground.

Her handmaiden was quick to join her side. I was down from my horse and to her side as well. I watch her closely, my hand pushed the fallen red curls from her shoulder to rest on her back and away from the sickness. It was quick and almost too easy to ignore but the thought of her silk-like strands entwined with my fingertips was as much prevalent in my mind as the knowledge that I had touched her, a highborn, without her permission. Instead, I focus on keeping my feet light to be the net to catch her if she fell. Her body shook so violently and her skin grew paler as every last bit, down to the water from our cups, left her stomach and made home on the ground.

"My lady, could it have been the food?" Fresca says.

"You have been riding for days." Robb calls out as he hops down gracefully from his steed. "Sickness accompanies many men, strong soldiers even, on long trips." Robb quips as he walks over to our small gathering around Lady Astor. "Not to worry." He says, mostly to her handmaiden who watches Robb through tight eyes. "I am sure you will feel better soon."

I feel my brother's worried eyes watch my shielded face behind my black curls and turn to meet them. No words were needed, I knew just what my brother was thinking beneath those red curls. Bringing back a sick Lady Astor would not sit well with father, least of all Lady Catelyn. I would be sure to find the blame somehow in such a case.

Lady Astor only nods her head once before she sucks in a breath and stands with a curt thank you to her handmaiden and then her body turns to me and her eyes follow suit to look me in the eyes. I didn't hold them for longer than a breath, which I was finding hard to catch, as I found the King's Road to distract me.

She looks at me, and I expected her to yell, but instead she smiles the best she could.

"Thank you, Jon Snow." Her voice sounded so weak.

I felt bad for her.

"I think I'm fine now." With that she walks back to her horse, mounts him and waits for us to lead once again as if she hadn't taken sick on the King's Road.

I have to admit, she was strong.

/

We made it back home, to Winterfell, less than an hour later. The gates opened to let us in and I could see all the men in the courtyard staring at Lady Astor.

The lust in the eyes of everyone of them as she passed.

She was a Lady, not just a highborn, she deserved respect. However, I could do nothing about it, it wasn't my place to and when I looked back at her her eyes were not focused on the men but on the castle. She sat straight and proper as if the horse didn't sway her from her post.

"Wow, this is winterfell? It's nicer than your father said it is. He said it was-"

"Fresca, it is rude to speak of such matters within these walls. Know when to speak. We've talked about this." The playfulness in her voice was off putting.

I hadn't heard it before. She was always so composed like a true highborn always is. I could feel my lips lift from the corners as I listened. Maybe she wasn't as serious as I thought she was.

"You must meet our father before we show you around, Lady Fresca. You'll be happy to know it's been well kept." Robb smirks with a quick wink towards her.

It was always hard to tell if he was flirting with women or just being witty. But, from what he spoke of in our bedchamber last night I'd bet the former. It came naturally for Robb. His smile alone drew women in. Really, words were worthless for him, just something he was good at.

A girlish snort comes from Lady Fresca before she speaks in a flirtatious voice, "I look forward to touring your castle, my Lord."

"Fresca," Lady Astor retorts in shocked warning. "What have I told you about flirting with Lords?"

Lady Astor's attempt at speaking in hushed tones had little success as Robb and I both smile towards one another as her words fill our ears.

Moments later we all dismount our horses as the stable men guide them away back to the barns. Our guest pass ahead of me, following Robb, to meet with father. I stood where I was, about to go to the training yard to practice my bow arm when Lady Astor stops and turns to face me.

"You will not be joining us?" She asks, surprised.

I watch the smirk on her Handmaiden and My brother's faces before I try my hand at looking her.

"No." I say with my head low as I turn back around to face her properly. "I have finished my mission. I'm headed back to the training yard, my Lady."

Her eyes watched me for a long while, and I cursed my leather gloves that only made my hands sweat more.

"I thank you for escorting me and my handmaiden to your home safely." She smiles softly before giving a small nod.

I raised my brows at my brother who smiles as if he knows something I don't. In truth, when it came to women, that was true.

"Of course, my Lady. It was my pleasure." I give a small bow before I watch her walk away with my brother to our father.

I head for the training yard. The Lady still on my mind where she had been since we met three days ago. She had spoken to me and I hadn't returned in kind and I was sure she hated me after last night in front of the inn. But the smile on her face seemed genuine. She herself seemed as much. For all the stories about Stannis Baratheon, I was surprised she was as nice as she turned out to be. In all the stories of him he never sounded like an easy man to get on with. Was that why she said she didn't much care for what her family thought?

The training grounds where near abandoned when I had arrived. Even more now. Everyone was getting ready for the King's arrival. No one had time to train. There were preparations I had to conduct, like the cut I was to have this afternoon. In truth, I was avoiding it. My brother always said I loved my hair, and though I would never confirm or deny it to him, it was the truth.

I took care of it, and I agree with my brother I maintenance it like a woman would. But of course my brother wouldn't understand. He keeps it short. Better in battle, he says. Of course he's right, and maybe when I get to the wall I'll cut it, but for now the months spent growing it out where coming to an end. I would avoid it for as long as possible. Not too long as to make Lady Stark angry, however.

"So this is where you become a great swordsman?" I almost dropped my sword as Lady Astor's voice carried in the empty training grounds. "It's always much more lively back at Dragonstone."

I thought I had heard footsteps, but it didn't alert me. Knowing someone was here was not going to make me drop my sword, but Lady Astor was another story entirely. I gripped the hilt tighter to keep it in place. I didn't need to look like anymore than a fool to her. Much less an incompetent fool handling a sword.

"I don't think great would be the word for me, my Lady. My brother, Robb, yes."

"You always speak so highly of your brother? You two must be close." Her blue eyes sparkle as she stands next to the stable opposite of me.

She begins to walk closer and the grip on my sword slowly starts to slip. My hands are wet once again and I feel hot. Damn these nerves! I don't try to act this way. I wish I didn't. Why couldn't I have confidence around women, like my brother?

"Yes."

She smiled to the ground. Her hair fell in her face and I watched it sway in the wind before she tucks it behind her ear. My stomach felt twisted for some reason when I watched her. I could only describe her as elegant; she was highborn after all.

"Be honest with me, Jon Snow. Are you any good with that sword that you hold so tightly?"

I felt sick. She noticed. I look down at my hand that held my sword. I tried to loosen my grip to look more relaxed. I didn't want to show her how she made me feel. I didn't even understand it myself.

"I can handle my own." Would that be a good enough answer for a Lady?

"About last night, Jon." She says so suddenly my breath stops in my throat.

My eyes stared to the ground. I didn't expect her to bring it up. Really I didn't expect any of this from her. Why had she come to see me in the training grounds? Surely there is much to do for a Lady, such as herself, inside the castle.

"I apologize for leaving so abruptly. For being cold. It is just that," She stops her words in her throat as she caresses the wooden post beside her. She seemed uncomfortable with what she had to say. I stared on at her, giving her time to gather her thoughts. "I don't like the titles. Saying your last name is just a way to tell people what the circumstances of your birth were. It's the same when you can only address me as Lady before my name. Even Fresca shies away from simply speaking informally to me. It gets tiring. I thought you would agree."

She looks at me, with her blue eyes. I can tell that she's searching my own to see if she's right. Instead I look down. I would agree with her. I do. But that didn't change anything.

"I know it doesn't change anything." My head snaps up like Ghost's when I walk into the room, startled and curious. How did she know just what I was thinking? "It was silly of me to expect you to honor that wish. I'm sorry."

"You have-"

"Nothing to apologize for?" She says, catching my eye. The exact words once again sucked from my head into her mouth. I see her smirk. "Because I am a highborn?"

Her eyes scrutinize me, deciphering my silence. Her feet begin to slowly and almost in a snail's speed shuffle towards me, before clinging to the next post she passed inches away, as time seems to slow down around us.

"You must realize, Jon, that being highborn does not make me better or immune to mistakes." She looks away from my surprised face. "When I am wrong, I will apologize for it."

I didn't speak. What was I to say to her? She seemed content with the silence. It reminded me of myself. I liked to be surrounded in silence. To be able to think without distraction. But I was usually alone when I did this. Having Lady Astor here was making that difficult. But, I suppose it wouldn't matter. Whether she was here or inside the castle walls she would still be in my thoughts.

"Your father seems like a great man." She begins as she takes a step towards me.

I try to keep still as not to alert her to my nervousness as every crunch beneath her feet signaled every inch between us slowly disappearing.

"He is." I admit. My father was a great man. The best man I knew. He welcomed me into his heart when he could have easily shut me out.

"I assume he treats you well?"

I didn't expect her to ask. Why would it matter if he treated me well, to her?

"Yes."

"And what of Lady Stark?"

She watches me closely. I refused to look at her. It was a sore subject, I suppose. It also didn't matter how Lady Stark treated me. She was within her right to do so.

"Ah." She says as her own head falls.

She continues to slowly glide across the small stable grounds, running her hand over objects as she passed until she stops before the bow and arrow that leaned against the wooden post.

"I've always wanted to use one. Father didn't like the thought of it. Mother liked it even less. They wanted me to be a lady. I hardly even know how to ride Leo." She turns to me. "Would you teach me how, Jon?"

I couldn't refuse her. I didn't know if I wanted to. However, spending more time with her could prove to be a disaster. I can't control myself around her as well as I can others. Besides, defying her mother and father's wishes, if it were to ever get back to them, wouldn't look very good.

"Don't worry about my parents. I want to learn."

How did she do that? Were the thoughts in my head so obvious to her? Were they written on my face? In the crease of my brow?

"It's okay to deny my request, Jon. I will not force you."

"It's not that." I manage to answer. I share my sight between the ground and Lady Astor. "My younger sister, Arya, would be a better teacher. She has the best bow arm."

Arya was a young girl, but if Lady Astor wanted a real teacher, it wasn't me.

"The little girl who likes to run the halls?" I nod swiftly. "Do you think you can do anything better than any other, Jon?"

Could I? I never thought much of it. I always just assumed...that my siblings were naturally better than me at everything. Although I did think myself a good swordsman I didn't dare boast like my brother would if asked. But I knew that wasn't what Lady Astor wanted to hear.

"No." I admit as my head falls.

"I think you're far too modest. I was watching you, before I spoke."

I waited for her to continue but she must be finished. I watch her as she picks up the bow from the ground. It sat awkwardly in her arms. I wished to help her, but I couldn't do much without touching her and I had already overstepped when she had been sick earlier.

"I didn't thank you earlier." She says as she tries to manage the bow. "For keeping my hair back. I would have been embarrassed to meet the Lord of Winterfell with breakfast in my hair." She laughs but the sound is almost too quiet and carries away with the wind far too easily.

I felt a smile on my lips at the sound. It was beautiful. It matched her well.

"It's no bother, My Lady."

I hear her softly snort and raise my brow at her turned head.

"My uncle, the King, is to arrive tomorrow."

I nod before I remember she is turned away from me and can not see. I brush off my small embarrassment but shifting my stands and silently clearing my throat.

"Yes."

"Have you ever met the King, Jon?"

I couldn't recall a time that I had. I'm sure I would remember something as important as meeting the King. Unless I was too young.

"Not that I can remember."

"Well, I'm sure you've heard the stories about him. But, I have to tell you, he's a better man than most give him credit for. My father included." Her last words are just as soft and easy for the wind to carry. This time, however, because they were taboo to speak.

I wondered why she was telling me this. I figured she was just talking. Maybe she needed someone to listen. I can imagine being an only child must be lonely, even if you were given handmaidens.

"Were you aware that the Boltons were to come this afternoon?" She suddenly asks.

I didn't know much outside of what gossip I heard behind the castle walls.

"No, I didn't."

"My…" She sighs. I saw her shoulders slump in a way no Lady's ever does. I was curious why she grew sad so quickly. But I figured I'd better not ask. "Ramsay Snow, of house Bolton, will be joining us."

"You know him?"

Her face was grim and far away. I wondered what could bring that upon her face at the mention of Ramsay Snow.

"All too well."

I didn't question her further. It wasn't my place. I didn't suppose she wanted to talk much about it despite bringing it up.

"The Boltons are a strong house. They would be good to have on our side one day...at least that's what I've always been told."

I nod for her to go on. Her shy smile made her look more girlish than womanly. It was then I realized I didn't even know her age. But with that smile, she must be younger than Robb and I.

Lady Astor began to walk closer to me. I stood my ground and kept my composure, surprisingly. I watch her closely as she stops in front of me, bow in hand, and a serious look on her young face.

"You will teach me then?"

It took me a minute to gather what she was talking about. I looked down at the space between us and gulp rather embarrassingly at how little space was left. I also glanced at the bow and without much thought I look back at her ice colored eyes and agree.

I regret it right after, but I can't go back on my word. That wasn't the man I wanted to be.

"Good, we shall practice tomorrow, yes?"

I give her another nod, unable to find my voice with her so close. I could smell her hair from this distance. I felt perverted for thinking it smelled good, feminine. It was the smell I would think of when I thought of her now. Gods, I was unwell. Or was that normal for men to think, even about Ladies?

"I best get ready to meet my uncle then. I'm sure you too must be getting your affairs in order?"

I clear my throat rather unbecoming as I try to push the simple words out.

"Yes."

She turns on her heels gracefully and her dress brushes against my leg. I swallow the knives in my throat and watch her as she makes to exit the grounds. She stops abruptly at the entrance, turns her head and smiles back at me.

"Thank you, Jon."

She was gone before I could push the knives down far enough to speak. My words fell deaf in the air, "You're...welcome."

I, Jon Snow, was a fool.


End file.
